User blog:CuteLunaMoon/Chapter 14: Sophia's diary, part 3, 1/2
On the candle-lit bed shed, I read the last page of Sophia's diary "January 17th It's been a year since I arrived in Yharnam. I have had a habit to keep a journal which I could write in whenever I feel inclined. Recently the busy work overwhelmed me. Last month, when I dissected the businessmen, I had discovered that it was the blood that transformed men into gruesome beast. And people who used blood on a daily basis, like hunters and clerics, were the easiest to turn. And since then, I had Labetrix and her gang dig up a body for me every night so I could record the symptoms of each patient as well as preserving inflicted organ samples. I have discussed the matter with Sef and one of her fellow Mensis schorlar , whose name was Clark, agreed to fund me for the study. The two schorlars of Mensis were very keen on the research and insisted to keep the eyes of the bodies and soak them in Formaldehyde for preserving. They believed that the Bygenwerth scholars , who proceeded the Healing Church , did the same to study not only the deseases but also human limits and evolution. James was very displeased with my work and claimed that it was unnecessarily expensive and blasphemous. I did create a wall-to-wall hostility and tension in my home when I hired a dirty basement near Hemwick Charnel Lane for more conviency. Little did I know I was shooting holes in the bucket of our intimacy. Last week, he yelled at me I was a control freak. He then went on listing how controlling I was, like frowning at the cardoon and the cabbage he bought, grimaced when he talked about buying a new Repeating Pistol, spoke on his behalf and decided where he should hunt... He was often calm and collected back then. We traded our secrets when it was safe. Then, they were our ammunations when the fever broke. He sees my study as a manifestion of pure evil. I yelled at him back and called him a dim-witted blood fiend and that I made decisions for him because I was smarter and that I was worried for his safety. I thought I made him strong, I tried to improve his way of living and made him tidier and more romantic. But all of it got me to the same lonely spot: wondering why my husband was withdrawn, distant and defensive. After our squabble, I did not return home and spent my nights in the basement, sometimes joined by Sef. And much to my sadness, he did not visitted me. However, Ashen Blood plagued Old Yharnam and ravaged the old town and all doctors were called to treat the sick. The ashen blood ailment eventually triggered the spread of the beastly scourge. To make the matter worse, someone had discovered the tomb raids and our research was postponed. I and my fellas quickly hide our research and paid the house owner to keep our study a secret. Surprisingly, James waited for me outside and took me home. On the way back, I apologized him. He, mockingly, joked that he was pleased that the ailment took place. I've been home for two days up to now. Later, from his fellow hunters, I knew that it was James who often patroled Hemwick when I was doing research. January 20th Since yesterday, James has gotten back to his sarcastic and loving side. It was a relief. I also tried to be more subtle and less controlling. The careless Powderkegs had burned down a cathedral near our house last night. A witness had seen a suspect throwing a flaming device from the side of the road into the brush here, which caught fire. But the most notable event of the day was a very strange patient I met today. Her head was expanded and swelled beyond imagination . She was a handmaid before being imprisoned and experimented on by her master- a retired member of the Choir . Last night, a horrendous Dark Beast broke into the madman house, followed by its pursuers- the Holy Blades. After dealing with the undead behemoth, the madman was under arrest. He was trialled for heresy and devil worshipping. The misfortune soul was rescued and transfered to our care. She mumured about hearing water dripping. As a doctor, I was very curious to study her case. However, Sister Cadeau decided to send her to neurosurgical care, a secret service performed by the Choir, deep in the Research Hall- a resitricted area of the church. The decision to transfer such patient to a secluded area seemed to be biased against the deformed in Yharnam, but I suspected this was an act to cover a darker secret. I expressed my pitiness over the strange abnormality with sister June. She, unwittingly, said it reminded her of the old days of the Choir when they studied Kosm . When I asked her further on the subject, she drove the conversation in another direction. She knew something sinister and she wasn't allowed to disclose. But I knew that she was buried in debt due to her gambling habit. So I decided to bribe her..." The page rest of the page was torn and on the other side, the diary is about another day "September 18th Ashen blood spread like wildfire. A half-peck loaf of bread, loaded with saw-dust, cost seven pennies at Old Yharnam today. Though the price was two times higher, the denizens of Yharnam seemed to stock up on the seven-pennies-per-loaf bread. They did that out of fear the price would go higher. I was lucky to be able to buy three loaves, cost me a silver shilling and nine pennies. But even worse, the price of Blood Vial was two shillings each. James and I were badly injured after last night hunt while he was training me and I had no other choices but to infuse blood into him, though I knew perfectly well the unwanted side effects of the accursed blood. Many had fled the city. This led to an even worse situation where manual labour was scarce and the price would eventually go even higher, as many might fear. Most of the downtrodden denizens of Old Yharnam were down to eating rats... " The rest of the diary was missing, torn out clumsily. Sophia gave me her diary, along with her manuscript a day before our failed uprising. But could it be she wanted to hide something from me? I knew it from others that many of the Green Willow's disorderly allies had some pretty unsavoury characters with shady pasts, like the Forbidden Woods' villagers. Though I stayed with them for three months, there were still many things I hardly knew about. Something that might lead to their doleful downfall. But I recalled that before being struck by lighting, the diary was thicker. So there might have been someone that tore the diary in half after they find it in my stash when I was struck down. I sigh, sit up and unintentionally wake Lissie up. She lets out a small grunt then go back to sleep. It's been a week since she moved in and Lissie's wounds are much better now though the swelling in her left eye is still visible. I wanted to nurse her back to health without the use of Blood Vials so I told her to go to bed early. I extend my tendrils and put the diary back to the shelf. Sophia's manuscript has no explanation for my strange condition, so I write it down myself. My tendrils can be clasped tight and swung, like a weapon. My tongue was lengthened, too, and can be clasped and used like a whip as well. My chest was flattened, much to might dislike, and my face is a tree trunk crowned with flowers. I am no longer the beautiful countess I once was. I check the barricade again, adding some more wood to the chimney before going back to sleep. Outside the window, snow is lightly falling and it's very cold. Out in the dingy streets, beastly figures are scurrying about. In the great mess of greyness outside, comes a lengthy, harrowing howl, which could drive one's wild fancy mad. I close my eyes and hope that I would dream of mother Kos, for there are too many thing I'm excited to talk about with her. Though she brought me back everytime I was killed, it wasn't without side-effect. In the morning, we have a decent meal before I go hunting alone. After the raid on the madmen basement, we have a fairly large amount of dried food. But I still want to have more for the coming winter. I tell Lissie to stay in base, to which she happily accepts. After the tragic death of her father, she seems to have given up hunting. It's good for me, too. Going out alone is stealthier. After scanning the area, I furtively traverse the dark streets to the suburb. On the way, sometimes I stop to hide from a hunter gang or a pack of beast on the rugged, brushy streets, decorated by small dunes of snow. The sky is gloomy and cloudy. Along the decrepit streets, sometime, I see a pack of hunters gather around a burning crucified beast to seek warmth. When I walk along a dark alley, suddenly there are noisome odours on the breeze.Though my instinct tells me that I should avoid the source of this unpleasant smell, I decide to investigate a bit. The stench comes from a rotten Blood-starved Beast, chained to a crumbling wall. The beast is apparently dead, its flesh begins to putrefy. I wonder who, or what group of hunters have done this. Further investigation shows that the beast was drained of blood. But its blood is highly toxic, so making Blood Vial or Blood Cocktail from it is highly impossible. For a moment I think of the odious gang of deranged hunters I fought earlier but suspect that if they had enough surviving member to bring down such horrid beast. The newly arrived hunters must have done this, but the motivation behind this dark harvest is unknown to me. I walk through the alley, whose decayed walls besprent with recent blood, and give up on chasing the red herring to continue my trip. After a few turns, I find a heap of dead beasts in a square near the entrance of Old Yharnam. Blood runs red on the white snow and on the moudy wall. Intestines hang here and there on the dry creed sedges. Some carrion birds, despite the cold, are plucking eyeballs from the mound of lifeless carass. There is an aura of despondency and despair in the air, which even my bloodthirst can do little to expel. I hear weakly breathe somewhere near and find a female beast patient lying on a pool of blood along the grass-grown street. Walking closer, I find her on the brink of death. The wound is grievous and her furry body is getting colder. She lets out frail hisses when I lay her against the wall. I hug her around the waist and deliver the coup de grâce with my dagger. Then, I drag her to a bush where she can have her final rest with her kind. Slowly, the ruined building grow sparser and replaced by thickets of dead trees and strange rock. Sometimes, I spot a stray beast or a demented hunter, who are wholly consumed in their own world. Soon, steep rocks tower the landscape and hills, crowned with firs and pines or deserted farmhouses. In this nightmarish realm, seasons seems to change from place to place. In Central Yharnam, it's winter. But in the outskirt, it's mid-summer or so. Summer breeze is gently flowing in this area, bring along the stench of rotted corpses and burned fur. Dotted with scrubland and lone trees dangling on plateaus, hillside roads curled around the ascending stretch of hills. Walking alongside one of such roads, I find a small hut ,in which lies coffers filled with quicksilver bullets and blood vials. It had been built beside woodland and was cloaked by a canopy of oaks and beeches. The hut show signs of being inhabitated so I just leave the loot be. Perhaps a group of blood-drunk hunters dwell here and they would be very displeased when someone discovers their secret habitat. I move farther and farther southward, where show least sign of beast and hunters. When I was standing on the brow of a small hill behind the hut, a warm breeze coming through the copse of trees behind me, and my eyes skimming over the rooftops and across to the lush fields in the distance. Here and there, with my monocular, I sometimes spot shambling figures of some demented blood-drunk hunters or a furgitive beast patient scavening the ground. Over a small valley, lie vast stretch of red flowers. I slowly walk there and discover clumps of daylilies are in bloom. I quickly fill my backpack with the flowers. They are not only edible but also very delicious. While I'm busy picking flowers, suddenly, the fine silverbell , which I took from an unnamed church hunter in the Fishing Hamlet , vibrates. It rings gently and somewhat faintly, but still, I can feel the vibration. Sophia once noted that some bells are magical artifracts excavated from the catacombs carved below Yharnam, so this might be one of those bells. But there isn't much information about the bells. The silverware continues to ring in my hand so I give it a try. I hold the bell firm and ring it. Suddenly, everthing around me grows paler and I see myself dissolve into blue smoke. Everything turns darker and darker. Category:Blog posts